Summer Love
by Bonunga
Summary: RWxFD Ron is left at the Burrow with only the company of Fleur. It's a long three months and things will happen...
1. Chapter 1: Dirty Laundry

**Summer Love by: Bonunga**

Chapter 1: Dirty Laundry

Ron sat at the window of his cluttered bedroom and gazed out at the colorful summer sunset. It was just the day after he left Hogwarts, and already he was bored out of his mind. Fred and George were always at work, Percy showing up at the Burrow was a laughable idea, Bill and Charlie were always on top-secret Order work and Ginny was spending a few weeks at a friend's home. That left just Ron, his parents and Phlegm. Pathetically, Ron had already written to Hermione and Harry three times, filled with complaints and hollow suicide threats. He hadn't recieved a letter back from either friend, and was heavily considering writing another for each of them.

Ron pulled out his ink and quill, with a fresh piece of parchment. He tore the parchment in half, one piece for Harry and the other for Hermione. As he began to scribble the words "_Dear Harry_", the shrill voice of his mother, Mrs. Weasley, shattered the silence, "Ronald! Dinner is on the table!"

Ron rolled his eyes and put his things away, ambling down the steps towards the kitchen. When he got there, he saw only his mother and Fleur sitting at the table. The two of them looked up at him as he took his seat, then maintained their gaze until Ron noticed.

"What?" Ron said irritably, as the women returned their gaze to their plates, as if they were innocent.

"Nothing dear, we were just admiring how much you've grown since you left for Hogwarts back in September" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice thick with emotion for her baby boy.

"Oh, come off it Mum!" Ron said, his ears turning a delicate shade of pink as Fleur stifled a laugh.

"Oh fine then," Molly said as she violently stabbed her chicken, "I guess you don't need your old, embarrassing mother."

Ron expected his mother to lay a guilt trip on him, so he just ignored it and continued to slide his mashed potatoes across his plate. He hadn't had much of an appetite since Dumbledore's death. His mother always gave him looks of pity and constantly offered for them to sit and "express their feelings". This annoyed Ron more than anything. He was not a little boy, and he didn't need his mother to play shrink.

Ron snapped back to the kitchen when his mother yelled at him. "Quit playing with your food, you're not four!" she said, then continued her conversation with Fleur.

Ron mumbled to himself and quietly dropped his food onto the floor, where the dog was more than happy to clean it up. He got out of his seat and put his plate into the sink. Just as he was about to climb the steep stairs, the voice of his mother slammed into him like a ton of bricks.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she yelled. Ron turned around to see what crisis he had created now.

"Yes mother?" he asked sweetly, mockingly putting on an innocent disposition.

"Don't you act all innocent! That mangy mutt of yours has dragged the food _you_ gave him around the kitchen. Not only have I told you about allowing that fleabag into my home, but I've also told you about wasting the food I give you!"

Ron sat down and got comfortable, this could be a while. As he sat indian-style in the spot he was stopped, a sudden wrench on his ear forced him into a standing position. He looked to the side, expecting to see his mother's red face and perpetually open mouth, but instead he saw Fleur Delacour's angry, and yet still beautiful visage.

"How dare you disrespect your muzza like zat, vhy in my old country, if ve did zat ve vould be tied to a post outside and beaten vis a cane!" Fleur yelled, only adding to the already dangerously loud sounds that boomed through the rickity shack.

Ron couldn't believe this. Now Fleur was gonna play mommy, just because he didn't kiss his real mother's ass! Ron hated how close Fleur and Molly had grown since Dumbledore's death. Now they were double-teaming him over a small mess in the kitchen. Ron's dog stalked behind the infuriated women with a chicken bone hanging from it's mouth. Ron glared daggers at the dog, forming a plot to sacrifice the animal so that he could kill his mother and Phlegm without being caught.

After Ron was forced to clean the kitchen three times, he slipped past Fleur and snuck up to his room to avoid any more confrontations. Ron plopped on his bed and laid back. He was so mad at everything! No one to talk to and two women with severe problems liviing under his roof. Although Fleur's veela-ish anger came through her every now and then, her beauty stayed there all the time. Ron couldn't stay angry with Fleur for long, and they would probably be laughing together in the morning.

The mere thought of Fleur's silky blonde hair made the crotch of Ron's pants bulge. In his mind, he saw Fleur waving her beautiful hair around just for him. She would laugh and giggle, motioning for Ron to come to her with her finger. Ron rubbed his bulge, thinking of Fleur slowly removing her shirt and smiling, her pale breasts covered only by a small bra.

Ron pulled his pants and boxers off, and pulled his blanket around him. He laid on his back and looked at his member, sticking up through the covers. He closed his eyes and watched Fleur pull off her tiny skirt and stand there, in langerie, just for him. Ron rubbed himself and tightened his legs, so that the feeling was more intense. Fleur slowly removed her bra, and her breasts fell out of it gracefully. She gently massaged her breasts and licked her lips for him.

Ron rubbed the tip of his erection and gently did the same for the shaft. He used the other hand to gently caress his balls and rub his thighs, switching from one action to the other. Fleur pulled off her panties and rubbed herself, moaning melodramaticaly. She then ran her hands down the entirety of her beautiful body, slowly. She rubbed her vagina and began to moan '_Ron, Ron, Ron'. _

Ron was snapped back to reality by Fred's voice, "Ron! What are you doing?"

Ron looked up at Fred and George, who were standing beside his bed, smiling.

"I think he's staining his sheets Fred, don't you?" George said, not bothering to hold the laughter from his voice.

"Well, judging from his massive boner and his peaceful expression, I'd say yea." Fred said.

Then in unison, the twins called out, "Mum, Ron's staining his sheets!"

Ron desperately tried to hush them as he reached for his pants and boxers in the floor next to the bed. George quickly grabbed his clothes before he could, as Fred pulled the covers off of Ron, who had let his defense down trying to get his clothes. Ron quickly covered his erection and his ears and face burned a deep shade of magenta.

George looked at Fred and laughed, "Well Fred, I've never seen his face so red, I believe our work here is done."

Fred agreed, then the two tossed the clothing and bedding back to Ron and left the room, mockingly moaning "Fleur, Fleur, ohh!"

Ron put his clothes back on and scorned himself for not keeping a better watch on his surroundings. He prayed that they didn't tell Mum, but prayed even more that they didn't tell Fleur. Just as Ron finished redressing, his mother came into his room, asking what Fred and George were yelling about. Ron convinced her that they were complaining about Ron's messy room, knowing that Molly would agree that Ron's room was a pig sty and understand their distress.

After the potential disaster was averted, kinda, Ron laid back in bed and went to sleep before anymore thoughts of Fleur entered his mind. '_Teen hormones_' he thought as he drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2: Excuses, Excuses

Chapter 2 : Excuses, Excuses

Breakfast the next morning was very uneasy for Ron. Every time he looked across the table at Fred or George, they would snigger and stroke their fork lovingly. Mrs. Weasley grew very angry when she caught Fred, and he got a severe tongue-lashing for making rude and obscene gestures with their fork. Two times already, George had made Ron nearly puke, saying things like "Hey Fleur, guess what?" or "You wouldn't believe what Ron did last night!". Each time they came up with some stupid answer, then smirked over at Ron, whose face burned a bright pink. Eventually Mrs. Weasley grew tired of Fred and Georges' off the wall remarks and demanded to know what was happening. When she asked this, Ron's stomach twisted into knots and he waited for the twins' reply.

"You see mum..." George started. He then looked over at Fred and they winked at one another.

Ron sat in his seat, breathing rapidly. His eyes flickered over to Fleur, who unfortunately was listening intently.

"We caught Ron doing something bad last night..." Fred said, looking over to Ron and smirking.

Ron sat, squirming in his seat. He was half-tempted to jump out of his seat and confess his deeds, but he doubted that George and Fred would spill it all, they would tell just enough to make Ron incriminate himself. So he kept his mouth shut and waited for the twins to finish.

"Ooh! Vat did he do? Have you been a bad boy Ronnie?" Fleur said, pinching Ron's cheek as it grew redder than before, as if that was possible.

"No, not at all!" Ron said, knowing that he had taken what she said completely the wrong way. He looked to Fred and George and pleaded with them silently. They merely laughed and continued to torture Ron.

"Funny you should ask, _Fleur_" George said, staring at Ron as he emphasized her name. Ron sat there, helplessly and waited for the bomb to be dropped.

"Have you been a bad boy, Ronnie?" Fred asked, imitating Fleur's French accent, and making Ron more and more uncomfortable.

"That is enough!" Mrs. Weasley said to the twins. "You two tell me what Ron has done or you'll be de-gnoming the garden every day this week!"

The twins stopped smiling and looked to Ron, just to see the boy staring intently into his plate and fidgeting uneasily. Ron prepared for what his mother might say, what Fleur might say, but he had never been in this situation before so he just prayed that Fred and George would relent.

"We caught him trying to sneak out a window last night." George said, "We asked him where he was going, and he said to buzz off."

Mrs. Weasley stared at Ron, and began shaking with anger. Her face turned the customary red that every Weasley turned when embarrassed or angry and attempted in vain to count to ten.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! What were you doing trying to sneak out of my house last night! Where were you going!' Mrs. Weasley yelled. She then turned to Fleur and the twins and politely asked them to leave, preferably to get out of earshot, which would be in London. When the extra company was gone, Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Mrs. Weasley asked, waiting for an explanation.

Ron's mind raced to create a plausible story about why he was sneaking out at night. '_Fred and George are dead anyway!_' Ron thought to himself, envisioning all kinds of terrible things being done to the twins. His mom still sat there, patiently waiting for an answer, but it was clear her patience was running thin.

"You see..." Ron said, forming an excuse as he went along, "I wanted to sneak out last night, so that I could get a little extra Quidditch practice in before next season." That was the worst excuse Ron had heard, and he lived with Fred and George, and yet it was the best he had on such short notice.

"Quidditch practice!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, "Have you gone mad! Do you realize that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is cavorting around the Wizarding World, killing whoever he sees!" Mrs. Weasley took a momentary break, huffing and puffing, then she dug in again. "If you wanted to practice Quidditch, you should've done it in the daylight! Now you'll be de-gnoming the garden for the next _two_ weeks!" Molly finished.

Ron just sat there, cursing under his breath at the crap Fred and George caused for him. They could never do anything out of kindness. It always had to be an even trade. Ron couldn't wait until their visit was over. As Molly banged around the kitchen louder than usual, Ron sulked out of the kitchen and up to the twin's old room to speak with them.

He opened the door and the pair looked at him pitifully. "Hey, at least you survived." Fred said, as he was packaging some of his famous fireworks for the store.

"Yea, just think of what might've happened if we told the truth" George said, very truthfully. Had Ron told the truth, he would have his mother, and an angry veela to deal with.

"Well thanks a lot anyway," Ron said to the malicious duo, "I've got garden de-gnoming duty for the next two weeks."

The twins winced and each of them apologized for Ron's cruel fate, but they made sure to add in that he should watch his back some and not always his member. Ron nodded his head as he backed out of the door and made his way to his own room. He pulled out his stationary and started on that letter to Harry.

Dear Harry,

I am still so bored here, it's killing me! Mom is always on my back about something or another and the Twins have come to stay, so you know they're causing hell. Don't tell anyone, but Fred and George caught me last night, wanking on my bed. They almost told Mom, but instead they lied and said I was trying to sneak out. How are things there? Let me know when you can come down to the Burrow, I could use the company. Hope to see ya soon mate.

Ron

When Ron finished up his letter, he released Pig and got it tied to his leg after it took a few laps around his head. When he let him out of the window, he watched it fly until it was out of sight and then decided to clear some of that summertime homework that had been assigned...

Ron heard a knock at the door later that night. He knew his father had gotten home late again. He heard his mother answer the door with the personal question they all had been trained to use in these times, then answered one he gave her. Ron ambled down the stairs to see his father, he was the only one up except his parents. When he got to the hallway in front of the door, he saw that his father was absent-mindedly removing his jacket and hat, completely missing the coat rack, and then flopped into a kitchen chair.

"Hey Dad" Ron said, looking at his father who was slumped over in exhaustion.

"Hey Ron, how's it going?" his father replied, the fatigue thick in his voice.

"Have a bad day at the office?" Ron asked, he already knew the answer from the time and the shape his father made it home in.

"What makes you say that?" Arthur asked his son.

"Well, you're late, _again_" Ron said, not caring about the bluntness and insensitivity of his words,

"What do you mean by that?" Arthur asked his son, giving him an odd look and waiting for a reply.

"I don't know, you're just not around much anymore…" Ron said, knowing his father would more than likely explode.

"I'm around… It's not like I'm gone _all_ the time" Arthur said in his defense, as he pulled off his socks.

Ron watched his mother bustle around the kitchen at two 'o clock in the morning to heat Arthur's dinner and his blood began to boil.

"You're never here Dad. Why do you think the twins left home? It's probably why Percy left too!" Ron said, his emotion getting the best of him, causing his voice to crack. Ron wanted to say so much more, about how he missed everything for work, holidays, Ron's Quidditch games and anything else that happed outside the walls of the Ministry. Arthur sat there, chewing on his son's harsh words, then decided to evade the conversation until the morning.

"Ron, I'm too tired for this right now" he said, hoping it would be a good enough excuse to appease the boy. He got up and started for the stairs.

Then, Molly interjected and told Ron to leave his father be so he can sleep. Following molly's advice, Arthur continued to make his way up the stairs.

"Fine, walk away! Then go to work tomorrow and be too tired tomorrow night! But understand that I am growing up whether you are here or at the Ministry. I'm getting to where I really don't need you anymore, and if you wanna change that, you better figure out a way without me, 'cause I'm too tired to stay up."

With that, Ron barreled up the stairs without giving either of his parents time to react, into his room, and slammed himself onto the bed. Although he scorned himself for being girly and childish, he cried himself to sleep.


End file.
